


What is in a name?

by Rusty1



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-20
Updated: 2017-06-20
Packaged: 2018-11-16 17:04:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11257164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rusty1/pseuds/Rusty1
Summary: Archie was granted a temporary reprieve as the classroom speaker crackled out a message from the principal’s office, “Miss Betty Cooper there is an Alice Cooper wishing to meet with you in Principal Weatherbee’s office immediately.”





	What is in a name?

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this while writing "It's Riverdale" but couldn't find a place to use it.  
> Hope you like this as a stand alone story.

It was a typical class in a typical classroom in any typical American school. Following his lesson plans the teacher had just finished droning on from the preset curriculum for the day. 

It didn’t really matter what subject matter the class covered, the routine was the same. A teacher lectures to a few students who are actually trying to learn, while the remaining students struggle to look attentive. To ensure student participation the instructor sometimes calls a few pupils to the front of the room to demonstrate their subject mastery (or lack thereof) to their peers.

This particular class happened to be Into to Latin, and that meant even less student attentiveness. It also meant students were more often called to the board in a hands-on effort at language mastery skills. 

On this particular day in this particular class Riverdale’s Latin professor was currently engaged in his wearisome task of once again correcting Archie Andrews’s grasp of basic Latin grammar. 

“Mr. Andrews what exactly have you written on the board?”

“Romanes Eunt Domus,” the ginger boy read out loud.

“People called Romanes they go the house?” the teacher asked.

“It- it says, 'Romans, go home,” Archie explained.

“No, it doesn't. What's Latin for Roman? Come on!”

“R- Romanus?” Archie stuttered.

“Goes like...?”

“Annus?” the confused teenager guessed.

“Vocative Plural of Annus is...?”

“Anni',” Betty muttered from her seat trying not to laugh at her friend’s obvious discomfort. “You should have studied Arch.”

“Eunt What is eunt?” the aggravated teacher inquired of the ginger student.

“To go!”Archie blurted out with relief at being asked a question he could answer.

“Conjugate the verb to go,” the teacher demanded of the baffled teen.

“Uh.” Archie was in big trouble now; bluffing his way through Latin class was not going to work.

Archie was granted a temporary reprieve as the classroom speaker crackled out a message from the principal’s office, “Miss Betty Cooper there is an Alice Cooper wishing to meet with you in Principal Weatherbee’s office immediately.”

“Great,” Betty mumbled wondering what caused Alice Cooper to come to her school to visit her daughter. “I can’t even escape my mother at school. What else can go wrong today?”

In the grand scheme of things Fate usually ignores becoming involved with the minutia of the ebb and flow of people’s everyday lives. You are free to go about your existence pretty much unencumbered by micro-managing from the Universal Steward. That is until you foolishly ask what else can go wrong, then Fate takes aim at you and cocks the Fuck You Gun.

Betty had begun to gather her books when she felt a sticky wetness on the fingers of her right hand. Glancing down she noticed her hand was covered with bright blue fluid as ink seeped out of her defective ball point pen. Further inspection revealed the liquid had seeped down her wrist and onto her sleeve. 

“Shit,” Betty hissed. 

To avoid spreading the stain caused by the oozing ink the blonde engaged in a complicated series of maneuvers. Betty attempted to collect her Latin text and notebook with one arm while simultaneously twisting her ink coated hand away from her white shirt.

“Miss Cooper?” the teacher asked. “Is it possible for you to exit my classroom without preforming what I can only assume is some sort of interpretive dance?”

A deep red blush crept across her face as Betty awkwardly scooped up her materials and hurried to the door. 

Upon reaching the door Betty was now faced with a new puzzle. Her only free hand was covered in ink and being a considerate person she did not want to smear the doorknob with the sticky gunk. 

She juggled the books in her left arm to so she could open the door with her hand not covered in blue ick. Unfortunately the books were not in a mood to cooperate and promptly crashed to the floor. 

“Mr. Andrews could you please assist Miss Cooper with the intricacies of operating a doorknob,” the teacher requested.

Betty mumbled a quick thanks to her ginger friend as he facilitated her escape from further embarrassment by opening the door for her.

Before heading to the office Betty wanted to try and wash off the ink stain that seemed to be actually growing. She ran to the girl’s lavatory hoping she won’t run into Cheryl Blossom. 

“Please no Cheryl Bombshell, not today,” Betty pleaded.

Cheryl already had enough ammunition with which to persecute Betty. The blond girl could almost hear the taunts Cheryl would spew at her if the flame haired demon saw Betty’s current predicament. 

Betty quickly ducked into the pink tiled public toilet and ran over to one of the less cracked porcelain sinks, awkwardly balancing her books on the edge of the white sink basin. She turned the hot water knob on and nothing happened, she turned the cold water knob and still nothing happened. In frustration the blonde viscously twisted both knobs and to her shock something happened. 

The knobs pulled free of the spigot. Twin geysers of water shot at Betty from the broken water taps, a stream of hot water hit her in the face as a gush of cold water soaked her white shirt.

After the torrent of water soaked the panicking girl it stopped. Betty didn’t know much about plumbing but she did know enough to comprehend the infinite improbability of a broken faucet turning itself off. 

“Okay, that was weird,” Betty said followed immediately by, “Shit! My books are soaked!” 

After glancing into the grimy bathroom mirror Betty yelled “Fuck! My hair is drenched too.” 

Examining her wet mop of hair led to a more embarrassing observation, “Double Fuck! You can see through my shirt!” 

“Why did I not wear a bra today,” Betty moaned as she noticed her very hard nipples clearly visible beneath the now sheer fabric of her waterlogged shirt. “Because I let my best friend Veronica Lodge convince me to ‘dress more provocative’ that’s why.” 

Betty stared at her reflection in the mirror aghast, “I look like a participant in a wet t-shirt contest. My mom’s gonna freak out.”

The blonde pulled her soggy books close to her chest in an attempt to shield her hardening nipples from the population of Riverdale High. Unfortunately the cold wet texts added to both the transparency of her shirt and the condition of her perky breasts. 

Betty scurried down the thankfully abandoned corridors to the main office praying she wouldn’t run into Cheryl while at the same time hoping she would run into Veronica. The blonde’s best friend always seemed to have a solution for whatever issue was currently putting Betty in jeopardy of a complete breakdown.

The trip to the Main Office was a blur. Betty ran through the school hoping to reach the office before classes let out and the halls became crowded with students. As the bells clanged signaling the end of classes the dripping wet girl burst through the office door nearly colliding with Mr. Weatherbee.

“Miss Cooper you’re late,” the principal rebuked her. “Alice Cooper is waiting for you in my office. Betty nodded her head darting past the petulant administrator toward his office door.

Betty hurried to the old wooden door with Principal written in gold letters. Reaching for the door knob she paused dreading a confrontation with her over bearing mother here at her school. While Betty was not the stereo-typical bookish girl who delighted in being at school she did view it as her sanctuary to escape her domineering mother. Closing her eyes tight she took a deep breathe, turned the knob and pushed the door open.

Opening her eyes the first thing she saw was not the figure of her dictatorial parent, but rather a room filled with smoke. Betty spun around intending on sprinting out into the hallway to retrieve the nearest fire extinguisher. 

“Mr. Weatherbee your office is on fire!” she screamed trying to alert the students and faculty in the front office of the inferno. Despite the apparent danger everyone in the Main Office continued nonchalantly going about their affairs, totally unconcerned about the smoke billowing out from the room behind her.

“Hey I think there’s a fire,” she said less confidently. The people around her disregarded her warning; in fact it was almost as if she had become invisible to them.

When Betty turned back to toward the Mr. Weatherbee’s office the smoke was gone, but so was the room. The confused girl wondered if she had been mistaken, or if the medication her mother forced on her was causing hallucinations. Where there had been a room filled with smoke there was now nothing, just a large white bare area.

Gradually figures began to materialize not far from where the perplexed blonde stood. Slowly Betty recognized Josie and the Pussycats perched atop a raised dais tuning their instrument. Josie looked up and waved at Betty motioning her to come inside.

“Curiouser and curiouser,” the blonde girl mumbled.

Taking another deep breathe Betty stepped into room if that was what you could call the seemingly infinite area. She couldn’t see any walls or ceiling, or even a floor, the place was just an enormous blank space.

“Huh, Mr. Weatherbee’s office is bigger on the inside.” Betty observed. 

“Miss Cooper you’re late,” a man’s voice said from behind her.

Betty twisted around coming face to face with a man she was sure she had never seen on campus or even in Riverdale before, yet he was still somehow familiar. He was dressed like a rock star from a 1970’s album cover. His boots, his pants, and his vest were all black leather. A long stingy mass of ebony hair hung down his head falling to the middle of his back. Even his glam-rock makeup was black. Uneasily Betty noticed he carried a leather whip, not surprisingly made of braided black leather.

“I was supposed to meet my mother,” Betty said trying not to sound panicky.

“No,” the black leather clad man replied.

“‘No’ what?” she asked hoping to prompt clarification.

“No you weren’t supposed to meet you mother,” the man corrected.

“Um yeah I was,” Betty countered feeling more annoyed at being contradicted then frightened of the dark stranger.

“No. You were called to the principal’s office to meet Alice Cooper.”

“Yeah that’s my mom’s name,” Betty interrupted.

“Maybe, but in this instance Alice Cooper is me,” Alice Cooper corrected Betty once again.

“Alice isn’t a man’s name,” the blonde snarked.

“Try and be open minded dear.”

“I am open minded,” Betty huffed. “I kissed a girl to get on the cheerleading squad.”

“I kiss girls all the time does that make me a cheerleader too? Things aren’t always what they seem,” Alice Cooper said matter-of-factly. “Take a seat Betty.”

Betty took a step backward hoping to escape this unsettling situation. The back of her calf bumped into a chair that had not been there when she entered the room. Startled she lost her balance and plopped down on an ornately carved high back thrown.

“Enjoy the show Betty.” Cracking his whip Alice Cooper cued the Pussycat’s to begin playing. This song had a grittier sound than typified the group’s music genre. The rock star cracked his whip again, suddenly two brass poles appeared. 

“I used to be such a sweet, sweet thing,” as Alice Cooper began his performance a brunet girl and a red haired girl dressed in an erotic parody of school girl uniforms slid down either pole. The girls spun down the pole with their legs opened in an exaggerated split landing on the ground.

“'Til they got a hold of me,  
I opened doors for little old ladies,  
I helped the blind to see.” 

The song continued as the girls flipped their hair back and turned their faces toward Betty. The blonde girl was not surprised to see Veronica and Cheryl staring wickedly at her.

“I got no friends 'cause they read the papers,  
They can't be seen,  
With me and I'm gettin' real shot down,  
And I'm feelin' mean.” 

Wildly twisting their toned legs the cheerleaders rolled away from the poles. The pair of scantily clad seductresses crawled toward Betty pausing at the legs of her chair. Veronica and Cheryl then began slowly pulling themselves up the chair Betty was sitting on.

“No more mister nice guy,  
No more mister clean,  
No more mister nice guy,  
They say he's sick, he's obscene.”

Her heart was pounding; the blonde girl felt her breathing becoming ragged as the girls pushed their breasts in front of Betty’s face. Their obscenely tiny tops barely covering their sweat glistening tits. Smirking at her the two Vixens yanked their tops off exposing their pert teenage breasts.

BUUUUUUZZZZZZZZZ!

Betty’s eyes shot open as her buzzing alarm clock jolted her out of a confusing dream. “What the FUCK!” she yelled.

“Betty will you pleases be quiet,” Veronica grumbled. “We don’t have to get up for school for an hour.”

“Veronica?!” Betty nearly shrieked. “What are you doing in my bed?”

“Seriously? Babe you wore me out last night. Best sex I ever had,” Veronica replied with her trade mark smirk. “You know B since we’re both up wanna have some morning delight?”

Betty turned toward Veronica smiling. She slid her hands through Veronica’s raven hair before leaning in to kiss her.

BUUUUUUZZZZZZZZZ!

Veronica’s eyes shot open as her buzzing alarm clock jolted her out of a wonderful dream. “Really?! I just needed five more minutes!” Veronica yelled.

**Author's Note:**

> I can't be the only person who made the connection between Betty's mother's name and the name of the rock star Alice Cooper. lol  
> The Latin lesson is taken from Monty Python's "Life of Brian"


End file.
